Hiding behind a half smile
by breakingafterall
Summary: The iCarly viewers start to think Cam is the reason Seddie and Creddie don't exist, and now Carly's a nervous wreck that her secret will come out. Cam! T for language.
1. Chapter 1

I didn't love her the first time I met her. Hell, I didn't even look at her that way. I could have easily hated her and never talked to her again. But there was something about how she contradicted every aspect of my personality that got me hooked. I wanted to be around her endlessly, so we could fill in each other's missing pieces. She quickly became my friend, then my best friend, and practically my sister.

That's when it all got weird. High school. I always found myself staring at her, smiling when she was close, and cherishing every moment that her skin happened to be against mine. It could be as simple as her leaning on my shoulder while we watched Girly Cow, but it got me. I wanted to push the feelings away, and most of the time I did, up until she'd sleep over my house and prance around in her underwear like it was nothing.

It wasn't easy feeling yourself fall in love with your best friend, and I always tried to compare it to Freddie being in love with me. But then I'd realize that he'd moved on, and plus, we all knew he was straight. No one knew that I was a lesbian- or bi. I wasn't even sure what I was anymore. I couldn't tell if my past attractions to guys were forced or me not yet noticing Sam in that way.

She hadn't picked up on anything yet, which was good. It was just another Saturday morning, and I was sitting on the couch watching TV while drinking some blue tea. My front door was locked, not like that ever stopped Sam before, but today she ripped that chain to pieces faster than ever before. The door swung open, and she ran up to me, hair tied back, tears streaming down her face, and with icecubes in a paper towel wrapped around her hand.

"Carly!" She screamed, and I quickly stood up, admiring how good she could look in her pajamas at this hour.

"What's wrong?" I asked, pulling the paper towel off her hand. It was beet red, swollen, and there were some newly formed blisters around it.

"I spilled bacon grease all over my hand, Carly, it hurts so bad. My mom wasn't home, and I remembered the time you helped Griffin when he fell off his motorcycle or whatever-"

I cut her off by running to get some lotion and bandages for her. When I got back to the couch, she was sitting there, her jacket now off, gripping her hand and crying. It kind of broke my heart to see her in so much pain, because Sam was one tough cookie. I quickly squeezed some aloe out of a tube and rubbed it on her hand. She sighed in relief quickly, but winced again after I stopped rubbing it in and started wrapping a bandage over it.

"Are you sure you're supposed to bandage burns?" She asked, wiping her eyes.

"I'm not sure, but I know that it'll hurt a lot more if you leave it open and it keeps hitting things throughout the day." I hugged her tight, "Stop crying. It'll be okay now."

"Thanks Carls." She hugged me back, crying a bit more on my shoulder. I held her close, even petting her hair a little, because I knew it relaxed her. She loved being massaged and rubbed, even if it was by the elderly. "I never got to eat my bacon..."

"Do you want me to make you some?" I laughed. She smiled at me widely, and I knew that was a yes. I got up, and went to the kitchen to make her a big breakfast just the way she liked it - big.

When I finally finished plating all her food, I brought it to the couch, where I saw her sleeping. I put the food on the table, sat in the chair near the couch, and stared at her.

I felt creepy looking at her like this. But she was asleep, she would never even know. It wasn't lusty, at all. Sometimes late at night it was, but right now, I just wanted to lay in her arms and make her feel loved, because I knew that was what she needed when she was in pain. Her hair was so messy, but it looked beautiful, and she wasn't wearing a bra, but just knowing how comfortable she was with her body made me love her even more. She had on red plaid pajama bottoms along with flipflops, but her toenails weren't painted. Well, half of them were.

"Carly?" She asked suddenly, sitting up, "Were you staring at my toes?"

I snapped back to reality, "no. Your breakfast is ready. I was waiting for you to wake back up."

"By staring at me..?" She laughed, "There's a TV right there, Carls..."

I didn't answer, I just laughed, too, and then went to make myself something to eat while she ate. I felt too awkward to talk to her, so I let the moment pass.

Nothing else about it was ever mentioned until after iCarly one night. The show consisted of a spin-off of the bikini dogfood fights, but featured Sam and I in our bikinis, throwing chili at each other.

Yes, obviously, this would be a turn on to many, many of our viewers. But that was okay, we were older now and turning guys on was good. She didn't realize, however, how much it got _me_. Not the meat, of course, but her in a bikini. I'd never seen her in a bikini before, because she always wore shorts or t-shirts to the beach when we'd go. Her body was amazing, and I tried, really, really hard to not stare at her.

I wasn't enjoying feeling myself get aroused as I watched her chest when she jumped in front of the camera and said, "I'm Sam!"

I recovered quickly, popping into view and adding, "I'm Carly!"

"And this is iCarly!"

We did the beginning of the show, then were inside the mini pool with buckets of chili, throwing handful after handful at each other. I started to have fun with it, aiming to get it in her hair to piss her off, because she was cute when she was mad at me. I knew it was never serious mad, and there was always a slight smile as she yelled at me.

I managed to land a glob right smack dab in the middle of her face. She wiped it off angrily, then let out one of her battle cries, then ran straight for me and tackled me, luckily right onto one of the beanbag chairs.

We both started laughing hysterically, Freddie zooming in, and adding a comment about how my hand was on Sam's ass. I didn't hear him, because Sam was laughing in my ear as she tried to get up, but all of our iCarly viewers heard him.

That's all it took to set off all our insane "shippers". Comments about Seddie and Creddie not existing because there was actually Cam happening flooded the site, and it was making me so uncomfortable that my hands were shivering and I felt myself getting pale. Sam was in the shower, washing chili out of her hair, and I was cool with that, until she walked into the studio in a towel.

Freddie paid no attention to that, we both knew he wasn't interested in either of us, not even me anymore. Him and Sam had more of a really close best friendship now, and were comfortable with each other just like Sam and I were despite the fact he was a boy.

I, however, stammered and felt my palms get sweaty even though my body was getting colder every second.

"Carly, are you okay?" Freddie finally asked, even though I'd been sitting on the floor staring at the wall the entire time Sam was showering, and he was standing at his laptop the entire time, it took him until Sam walked back in to ask me. God dammit Freddie.

To think maybe, that one moment, I could open up to him about what was going on, because he was the person closest to me besides Sam, but he had to fuck up and not ask until she was in the room, made me mad. I stood up quickly.

"No. I mean, yes." I'd never messed up what I wanted to say so bad in my entire life. Stuttering? Yeah, I'd done that, but said the wrong word? Never. Not in a million years did I think it was possible to be so nervous that the wrong word would come out of my mouth. But when it came to Sam, anything was possible. "I'm gonna go shower. It's late. You guys should get to bed."

I didn't know what I was saying. Get to bed? They never left my house that early, let alone actually go to sleep once they did leave. Spencer had always picked up on the fact I took really long showers when I was upset, and tonight was one of those nights.

I guess he was the one that asked Sam and Freddie to leave early, because after I got out of the shower almost an hour later, changed into pajamas, he was waiting in the studio, ready to play therapist. I didn't wanna play patient, though, so I did an about-face, and left the studio. He quickly ran after me, grabbing my shoulder, and shouting, "Carly, talk to me please!"

"I don't want to." I laughed, pulling away. "I'm fine, Spencer."

"No. 20 minutes is fine, 30 is stressed, 40 is upset, 50 is depressed." He grabbed both my shoulders now, holding me facing him. "You can tell me anything, kiddo."

"I know that." I gave him a thumbs up, "I just don't want to talk about it."

"Did it have to do with the comments on tonight?" He put his hands on his hips, "Freddie told me you started acting funky right after the comments started pouring in."

"Freddie used the word funky?" I asked, trying to stray him off topic.

"No, he actually used the word glumpy, because this one time, me and him had this conversation-"

I cut him off by beginning to walk toward my bedroom, but he grabbed my arm again, whining loudly.

"What, Spencer?" I groaned, pulling away more forcefully, "I said I didn't want to talk about it, isn't that good enough?"

"No, it's not good enough, Carly! You're my little sister, you're all I have and I'm all you have, and if you can't tell me what you're feeling, then who can I tell what I'm feeling? My _socks_ aren't very good at giving advice."

"Neither are you." I stared blankly at him.

"So what?" He got down on his knees and begged like a 5 year old, but that's okay. That's just how Spencer was. "Please, please, please talk to me!"

My mind quickly tried to figure out how to word my entire situation without him finding out the specifics. So I started with a simple, "I have a crush."

"Oh!" He said, as if that answered all the questions, "What's the problem though?"

_She's a girl, and my best friend._ "It's impossible to be with them." Good use of the word 'them', Carly Shay. I give myself props.

"Well, all you can do is keep trying, kid. Try buying him a guitar, or some candy, or..." He tapped his lip, thinking, "A car, or something!"

"Spencer..." I laughed, "It's not because they don't like me, well, they probably don't. It's just... not possible." I started to walk away again slowly, this time he didn't stop me, so I continued straight to my room. I locked my door, grabbed a pillow from my bed, hugged it tight, and then collapsed in bed. For the first time, I started crying, because I finally felt all my feelings becoming real. It wasn't just something I could push to the side and say, "it's just a phase I'm going through," anymore. It was real. I was falling in love with Sam, my best friend, and it was starting to actually effect how I acted around her, and around others.

And I hated it.


	2. Chapter 2

School very quickly became hell. Everywhere I looked, Sam was there. It was like she stalked me all day. I hadn't noticed how often she was around me until then. I didn't have any time to try to get my mind off of her. I didn't blame her for always being there, we were best friends. We were standing at our lockers, when she started squealing in excitement. I was putting books away when she was jumping up and down, staring at her cellphone screen, then grabbed my arm.

"My mom just texted me telling me that she's going away for the weekend and I get to spend it at your place!" She tackled me into a hug, and I awkwardly hugged her back.

"The whole weekend?" It wasn't that I didn't want her to be there with me, I was looking forward to her sleeping in the same room as me for a couple nights. But the weekend was going to be my time to think of things besides her.

"Yes, the whole weekend!" She was smiling brightly at me, loosely hugging me while looking me in the eyes. Her smile quickly faded, "You don't look too excited."

"I am!" I forced a smile at her. "I really am. You know I love spending time with you."

"Hey Carly," Freddie walked up to us, "Sam."

"Hey Fredwardo." Sam let go of me to face him, and suddenly I wished I'd been better at faking excitement so she'd have held onto me a little longer.

"You two are really convincing with the whole lesbian thing." He laughed, "You're all over each other."

"Oh come on." Sam rolled her eyes, "I can be way more convincing than that."

"Pfft. You're good at a lot of things, Puckett, but acting isn't one of them."

It was true. Sam wasn't the best actress. She'd written tons of plays for class, but none of them got higher than a D. Sure, Sam liked to watch movies, memorize their scripts, and read the ocassional book, but she couldn't act. She'd stand in front of the classroom, and very poorly act out scenes. She played it off with a smile and some funny hand gestures to pass, but there was no skill involved. She was just a naturally cheery and amusing person.

"Is this a bet?" She crossed her arms.

"Yup." He crossed his, too, and I saw her face get fierce. I didn't want this to be a bet. I knew Sam took bets seriously.

"Deal. If I can convince the school that Carly and I are lesbians and dating, by next Friday, you need to intentionally get sprayed by a skunk and not wash the smell off yourself for two weeks." She held her hand out to shake, and my jaw dropped when Freddie took it and shook.

"Deal," he said, "Better get started."

My stomach was twisting and turning, because I didn't want to be a part of this. But I stood there, staring at the two of them, having no idea what to even say. What was my excuse for not being able to play along with a simple joke? We'd tell everyone the truth after Friday.

This could be my chance to have my way with Sam. She'd be willingly offering herself to me, all hours of the day, just to be convincing. I could hold her in my arms in the hallway, kiss her lips and neck and let my hands explore her body. It wouldn't matter who would see, because that was the point of it all.

But then I looked at her again. There she was, Sam, my best friend in the world, who was just trying to piss off Freddie. It wasn't right for me to take advantage of her like that. I didn't know what I would do if she made a move. I could easily go along with it, and laugh when she did because it was just a joke.

That's all it would ever be to her, though. A joke.

That weekend, she came over with a backpack full of her pajamas and beauty essentials. It always drove me crazy how she thought she had to do so much just to be pretty. She was gorgeous right out of the shower, with no makeup on and frizzy hair. We were sitting on the couch that night, home alone, because Spencer was at Socko's for a party. Sam was leaning against my shoulder like she usually did when we watched TV at night, cuddled under a blanket we were sharing.

"So about that deal with Freddie." She turned to look at me. "Since it's probably going to be hard to be convincing at school and stuff, I thought maybe we'd practice alone first. If that's okay with you."

I wanted to tell her that none of it was okay with me. But it was happening- she was making a move. It wasn't because she wanted me, and it wasn't because she had feelings for me. It was strictly to win the bet with Freddie. But as I looked down at her and gazed into her eyes, I knew the opportunity to kiss her was seconds away, and I didn't want to pass it up. I wanted to just know what it felt like, to see if I liked it.

Who was I kidding? Of course I would like it. I'd spent hours daydreaming of her. I wanted her. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that my feelings for her were strictly emotional, they werent. They were everything. Everything about her was appealing to me, from her personality to her looks.

"Okay." I laughed, "That's a good idea."

"Well," she grabbed the remote from the table and lowered the volume. "Lean."

It surprised me that she wanted me to lean in first, but I did anyway, knowing I'd never get this chance again. I pressed my lips against hers, and then pulled back quickly. It sent shivers through my body, and I noticed she looked shocked, too.

"That wasn't very convincing. We'll never get Freddie to smell like skunk with you being in control." She shook her head, smiling. "Let me show you how it's done."

I got nervous, but she moved quickly, kissing me gently, and not backing away as fast as I did. It was long, and sweet, like when I'd kissed Griffin, except it felt different, because it was Sam. I let my arms wrap around her neck, hoping to not freak her out. She backed away slightly, whispering, "that's better."

I thought I must have been dreaming, so I went along with it, kissing her again, harder. It felt amazing, like it was my first kiss all over again. She even tasted like potato salad. It was perfect, and I didn't want to stop. I felt my fingers tangle in her hair, and I wanted to start kissing her neck, but I knew it was too soon for that. I stopped again, my face burning up, and saw her smiling.

"Damn, Carls. You could pass as a real lesbian. Lemme see what else you can do!" The way she could find fun and purpose in anything ridiculous lightened my mood.

"You don't think I can be good at this kind of stuff?" I laughed, tilting my head to the side.

"Well, you are kind of prude, Carly." She slid her hand onto my waist, "It's insane that this isn't making you vomit."

"Prude?" I smirked at her, "I'll have you know, I'm a pretty sexual person on the inside."

"You? Sexual?" She rolled her eyes, "I bet you've never even seen a penis."

"I have to!" I crossed my arms across my chest, "I've even watched _porn_ before."

"_What?_" She fell back on the couch, laughing. "You're crazy, man. So you're an insane horndog, and you just decided to never tell me?"

"Maybe." I leaned over her. "I bet I could be the best you ever had."

"That's quite the bet, Shay. But you're on." She put her arms around me and pulled me on top of her.

I was laying on top of Samantha Puckett, who I knew was obsessed with sex just like her mother, and I was supposed to be the best she ever had. Then I thought about it. Who had she _had_? She'd have told me if she'd gotten with anyone, and she didn't. So I layed on top of her, pressed my lips against hers, and stopped thinking so hard.

I kissed her over and over before sliding my tongue against hers, which she didn't seem to mind. I knew she was an open minded person. Her hands were on my lower back, her fingers playing with the bottom of my shirt. I trailed kisses from her lips onto her neck, and when she tilted her head back, my eyes got wide. She _liked_ it.

I felt my heart start to speed up, because I'd never done this to anyone before, not even a guy. It didn't take much to get her, though, just a few kisses near her collarbone, and I felt her breathing heavier. I stopped, and looked at her.

"Why'd you stop?" She asked, smirking at me.

"You want me to keep going?" I giggled.

"Kinda, sorta, yes." She slid her hand into my shirt, playing with the clasp of my bra. I felt chills rush through my entire body.

"And _I'm_ the one who could pass as a real lesbian?" I kissed her cleavage, and she laughed quietly.

"Mhm," her other hand grabbed at my hair.

I was getting incredibly turned on. I wanted to keep going, I wanted to do all kinds of things to her. But then I looked up at her again, and I saw my best friend. It was driving me crazy. I wanted to see her as my girlfriend, or my lover. I just didn't want it to feel wrong to grab her boob.

That's when my door opened. Freddie walked in, holding a coiled wire, and said, "Hey, I gotta put this up in the studio- What the fuck are you two doing right now?"

I fell off the couch, slammed my head against the corner of the table, and Sam sat up.

"Carly are you okay?" She quickly helped me up. I held my head desperately, feeling it throbbing. When I let go, I felt dizzy, and when I looked at my hand, there was blood. That's all it took for me to pass out.


	3. Chapter 3

You guys have no idea how amazing all of you are for reading & reviewing. Oh my gosh. You all make me so happy. This one's in Sam's point of view.

Chapter 3

"Look what you did!" I shouted, delivering a hard punch right to Freddie's eye. I kneeled by Carly's side and held her, "Call Spencer!"

He was holding an ice pack on his eye, pacing back and forth on his pearphone waiting for Spencer to pick up when Mrs. Benson walked in.

"What was that loud bang?" She asked, panic in her voice.

I pointed at Carly, unconscious and barely bleeding but enough to scare the shit out of her. Mrs. Benson picked her up, layed her on the couch, holding a cloth against the place she was bleeding from.

"Is Carly gonna be okay?" I asked, staring at them both, "is she? Is she?"

"Carly will be fine. She just cut her head and passed out from shock. I can take care of her, let Spencer enjoy his evening out." She motioned for Freddie to hang up the phone. "Sam, go make her some hot tea and soup, if you know how."

"Of course I know how to make soup, psh." I lied, I didn't know how, but if it would help Carly, I would learn.

I would do anything for her, obviously. I loved her. She was my best friend in the world, and I cared about her more than life itself. She kept me sane, she kept me out of trouble, she kept me alive.

Maybe she wouldn't realize tonight, or maybe she wouldn't realize ever, but I was in love with her. It was all a joke and acting to her right now, but I tried so hard to tell her that I loved her for real in that kiss. I put all I could into it to let her know that I felt atleast _something_.

Yeah, sure, hiding it was fine, I could survive without her knowing. Considering telling her had pretty high chances of ruining our friendship forever, I kept it to myself, because I'd rather have her as my best friend than nothing at all. But I had it all planned out, the day we were over 100 years old in a retirement home, sitting in wheel chairs, and she'd ask 'Sam, why didn't you ever get married?'

I would look at her like I always look at her and say, 'I'm still waiting for you to love me back.'

So there I was, putting vegetables, chicken broth, and macaroni into a pot, even though I wasn't even sure if Carly ate what I was tossing in there, turning the burner on and staring at my reflection in the soup. Freddie walked up behind me. "She'll be okay," he said, and I knew he was right. But that didn't make kissing her with feelings while she had none okay, and it didn't make her fall in love with me, and it didn't make this stupid bet any easier for me to handle. "The question is, will you be okay?"

"I'm fine, Fredweirdo." I smiled at him and sighed. I could tell him. I could tell Freddie anything. He'd never tell anyone because he knew I'd personally slice his throat - and he was the only other person besides Carly that actually cared about me. He was inching his way higher and higher on my best friend scale, right there behind Carls.

"So, were you guys kissing?" He asked. There was no point in denying it, he saw.

"Yeah." I shrugged. I didn't tell him it was just practice. I let him think what he wanted, because maybe if he believed we were together enough, we really would be. Maybe.

But we wouldn't. Carly was straighter than an arrow, and then there was me - awkwardly manly in every way unattractive.

Atleast I thought so until I felt her kissing me back, and how hot her breath was agaisnt my neck. There was something more to her, and the cocky side of me wanted to believe she was gay too. But then I peered over at her on the couch, helpless and innocent. She was just my best friend who just didn't want to let me down with this bet. She had to try extra hard to make it believable. That's all it was.

"Sam, if this bet is making you uncomfortable, we can call it off." He put his hand on my shoulder. "I know something's up with you and... how you feel about Carly."

We stared at each other, long and hard. Like a penis. Well, maybe not Freddie's penis, but definitely someone out there's penis. He saw right through me, as if I were a ghost, and maybe that's exactly what I looked like. I felt all the color drain from me. I was nervous and at a loss of words. It was like he knew every thought in my head. It scared me a little, and I just let myself sink onto the floor, hug my knees to my chest, and lean against the fridge.

"If you know me well enough to know I'm uncomfortable, you should also know that Mama _never_ backs out of a bet, especially with you, my dear Fredward." It bothered me that I rarely ever called him Freddie.

He smiled at me. "It'll all be okay."

_No, it won't._

I kept saying that over and over.

And over.

And over.

Positive thoughts weren't my strong suit lately. Things were not going my way.

"She's waking up," Mrs. Benson said, and Freddie held out his hand to pull me up. I walked over to her. She blinked a few times at me.

"...was I the best you ever had?"

"Even better, Carls." I smiled at her, mentally begging her to let me kiss her lips again and whisper, 'feel better' into her ear. I couldn't help but let my eyes make their way down her body as she turned on her side and her tiny waist was even more accentuated by her t-shirt.

"You're sleeping over, right?" She had a desperate look on her face, like she needed me to be there with her.

It was the first time in a while she'd seemed like she wanted me to stay over. The cocky side of me wanted to believe she wanted to make sweet, hot love all night in her bed, but then I stared at her resting her head on a blood dripped pillow, hurt and in pain. She was just my best friend who needed me there to take care of her.

"Yup," I said, then got a bowl of soup and mug of tea for her, "I made this for you."

"All by yourself? Awe, Sam. You're the best. Thank you."

"Can you take care of her by yourself now, Sam?" Mrs. Benson asked, gathering her things.

"Yeah." I watched her and Freddie leave, and with them went my composure.

My face burned up, my palms got damp.

"The soup's good," she mumbled between slurps, "tastes yummy."

_You taste even better._

"Heh, thanks." I sat next to her on the couch. All my secrets wanted to pour out. So many questions tugged at my lips, like, 'Are you gay, Carly?' or 'Why did you kiss me so good, Carly?'

But all I could bring myself to say was, "So what kind of porn are you into, kiddo?"

Kiddo? _Kiddo?_ She was not my kiddo.

She choked on her soup when she heard the question, spitting a chunk of half chewed macaroni across the room. "Geez, slow down tiger."

"_What?_" She blurted, referring to my question.

"You said you watch porn." I laughed, "what kind?"

"What do you mean what kind? The kind involving, I don't know, sex?" There was a hint of sarcasm, but I knew she only spoke like that when she was extremely nervous, making hand gestures and getting flushed.

"Oh, well I watch the kind where they drive racecars," I said sarcastically. She looked at me, confused and concerned at the same time. "I'm just kidding, calm down. I meant, like, guy on guy or guy on girl or girl on girl?"

She looked away. Suddenly, I didn't know if she was even serious about watching it in the first place.

"C'mon, Carls. We're best friends. You can tell me what kind of freaky fetishes you have, unless it's like beastiality or child porn. Then we've got a problem. But even so, I'll help you through it." I laughed, trying to make her more comfortable with this mess of awkward trying to pass as conversation I'd just created.

"You won't judge?"

She only ever said that right before something serious was about to come out. "Of course not."

"Girl on girl." She whispered it. I felt her forcing herself to be honest with me, because she couldn't lie to me. Ever. She couldn't even stand it when I lied, even to other people. Considering our situation, I understood why it was so hard for her to admit that. If I were her, I would have lied. But then again, I wasn't going to lie to her now, so I just spilled it myself.

"No way, same here," I said, raising my hand for a highfive. She looked away. "Why so bummed? There's nothing wrong with liking boobs or being gay."

"I'm not gay!" She snapped.

"You're not gay, but like boobs. Oh, so _that's_ why you like Gibby-"

"I don't like Gibby!" She sighed. Loud. "I don't like Gibby."

"Okay, okay. Calm down. We're best friends, remember? You can talk to me about this kind of stuff."

I was being insanely hypocritical. I was sitting there, telling her she could talk to me about it, when I couldn't bring myself to talk about it with her either. So we sat there, in silence, for a while, staring at the TV with it's volume still too low to even hear it.


End file.
